


Adora Kisses (almost) Every Girl

by Xekstrin



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/F, dont make me type them all, oh god theres so many
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 12:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17305079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xekstrin/pseuds/Xekstrin
Summary: A series of unrelated ficlets where Adora kisses (almost) every girl in She-Ra. Some platonic, others decidedly less so.Adora Kisses:  Catra, Mermista, Lonnie, Glimmer, Entrapta, Perfuma, Scorpia, Razz, Angella, Frosta, Shadow Weaver, Netossa + Spinnerella, Castaspella.





	Adora Kisses (almost) Every Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Though some of these seem thinly related, that's just cause I liked the idea of Adora getting a Black Garnet powerup and what the fallout of that might be. None of these are meant to be consecutive or in the same universe, except for Catra.

**Catra**

 

Years later she wondered why Catra never hid it from her. The chances Adora would've snitched were high, and there was no way Catra didn't hear her footsteps in the hall, or recognize it when Adora slipped into the barracks for a nap. She lay on their bed, chin in her hands and her tail waving lazily, all her focus on something in front of her.

Adora was accustomed to being ignored by Catra. They spent too many years together to always need to fill the silence. The only greeting she got was a flicker of her ears, and so Adora didn't see the book until she slipped into their bed and curled around Catra, face in her hair.

"Hey, Adora," Catra said, distracted even as she nuzzled their cheeks together.

"Whatcha doing?" Adora was already close to passing out. Last night she'd gotten very little sleep, and today her chore list was blessedly small. No one would mind if she got some quiet time, away from the others.

"Reading."

Adora sat up a little bit. It was unusual for Catra to study anything, even if her status next to Adora was on the line. Curious to see what had Catra focused for once, she checked out the book and frowned. It wasn't immediately familiar to her, and she always knew when the library had a new book. It was important for a Force Captain-in-training to be familiar with all manuals and instructional texts. "About what?"

A low rumble of frustration built up in Catra's throat. "I don't know. It's got a lot of illustrations but they don't explain much."

Sliding the book over to Adora, Catra wrapped her arms around the other girl's waist. She rested her head in the crook of Adora's neck. "Read it to me."

Not an unusual request. It was an open secret in the ranks that Catra had difficulty reading. It wasn't that she was _stupid_ , she insisted, it was something about how the letters were spaced together. They got all jumbled up. She would stammer when asked to read aloud, consistently flipped her d's and p's.

But this wasn't like any book either of them had ever seen.

"Once upon a time," Adora started, then frowned. What did that mean? She read it again to see if maybe she'd messed up. "Once upon a time there was a girl named Snow White."

Frowning even deeper, Adora flipped to the back of the book to get the identification code. If she could figure out what subject the book was in, that might give her useful context. But there wasn't one.

"Catra, there isn't an ID number anywhere on this thing. You got a broken book." A realization scooped out her insides and replaced them with something cold. "Or contraband."

All books were organized by usefulness and subject. Anything that didn't, meant it hadn't gone through the rigorous publishing standards of the Horde, and might even be illicit literature propagated by rebels and maladapts. If anyone caught her with this, it might cost Adora her promotion.

Catra's ears flicked straight up, quivering with excitement. "Whoa, really? Now I _gotta_ read it!"

"Where did you find this?" Adora demanded, certain now that this was illegally published drivel and _not_ a proper book.

Arching backwards, Adora kept the book at arm's length. Catra threatened to clamber over her shoulder, black claws wriggled eagerly, grasping for it. "I found it in Kyle's bunk, okay? Now gimme!"

Adora pushed Catra's face away with the heel of her palm. "I'm putting this in the incinerator where it belongs."

Catra slumped weakly against her. "Adorrraaaaaa. You never let me do anything fun. Aren't you the least bit curious about what's in an illegal book?"

Falling quiet, Adora found she couldn't respond in any way that wasn't an outright lie. "It's just a lot of pictures of animals and _princesses_." She snarled the last words, flipping through the book again. "It doesn't even tell you how to build anything."

"If it's about princesses...." Catra's eyes rolled, as if searching the room for something she could utilize. "Mayyyyybeeee it was written by a princess?" She latched onto the sentiment, voice firming up with certainty. "We could get inside the enemy mind!"

Trust Catra to know just how to spin things. Adora decided she would read it first and discern if there was anything useful to glean from the material. But as she quickly tore through the scant text, she realized it was worse than useless.

It was boring.

"Adora? Hey, Adora?" Catra was prodding her now, demanding Adora's attention. "What's it say? What is it about?"

"It isn't about anything," Adora said, and read the whole book to Catra. It didn't take long at all. "It's a fable, I think. But it doesn't teach anything."

"Ummm. It totally does. Come on, Adora, you're not that stupid." Catra grabbed the book, frowning. She cuddled against Adora again, her back to the other girl's chest so Adora could rest her chin on Catra's shoulder. "It teaches you not to trust weirdos giving you gifts for no reason. If Snow White hadn't taken the apple, she wouldn't be in so much trouble."

Shrugging, Catra tossed the book onto Lonnie's bunk. "Duh-doy."

Adora wasn't convinced. "Why make a whole book about that?"

"Who cares?" Then she turned around in the circle of Adora's arms and held onto her, tail flicking quick and fast. "Pet me."

Rolling her eyes, Adora indulged in her demands. Catra purred loudly, rubbing her head harder against Adora's palms when she needed more pressure in a certain spot. Even though she insisted she never took naps, Catra always fell asleep eventually when Adora had her hands on her ears.

A gentle rumble in her chest accompanied Catra's every sleeping breath while Adora remained awake, her mind racing. Despite its simplicity, something about Snow White latched onto her imagination.

Maybe there was a cypher in the text, a secret code known only to rebels. Or maybe it was a spellbook. Maybe there was dark power in the words, hidden by the story of an orphan girl running away from her cruel master, the secrets she found in the woods. Maybe it was a metaphor for something else. Maybe it was the ramblings of a drug-addled artist, someone who got a kick out of making books that didn't follow the rules.

Catra's mouth on her neck brought her thoughts back to the present. When they were both little girls, Catra had gone through a painful teething period. More often than not, she used Adora's ankles or wrists for relief. These days, Catra only ever did it at night, some base feline instinct taking over. It was a bad habit that never fully went away.

"Psst." Adora nudged her. "Catra. You're sleep-nibbling again. Knock it off."

Catra did, mumbling something unintelligible as she rolled onto her back. Even though she'd been exhausted just a moment ago, Adora stayed awake a while longer to watch her bunkmate.

_And they lived happily ever after._

The words kept circling her skull, wrapping tighter and tighter.

Something about that book made her feel the way she always did when she was close to Catra.

Adora propped herself up on one elbow, concerned now for Catra's safety, wondering if she'd done something to hurt her without realizing it by exposing her to that book. She hesitated. Maybe there was subliminal messaging in the fable after all, a secret only she could unlock. So she leaned down further, pressing her lips against Catra's in a kiss.

Nothing happened.

Disappointed, Adora laid down next to her and tried to get some sleep. Clearly all-nighters were no good for her. They filled her with fanciful thoughts.

She stayed close to Catra, their legs linked together and their arms nothing but a tangle. One finger curled around a lock of her coarse hair, her face pressed against Catra's skin, breathing her in. The way they always slept, when they shared a bunk. The way things were when they were still knit together tighter than steel chains, when she didn't know where she ended and Catra began.

Adora never kissed her again.

 

* * *

 

**Lonnie**

 

No one else noticed. Maybe someone with a better nose would have smelled it.

But Adora was always sharp-eyed. She saw the speck of blood on the floor and tracked it like a hound on the hunt. When she threw open the supply closet and flicked on the lights, it was with a sense of triumph at what she discovered.

Lonnie scrambled to hide it, to put away the bandages and the medicine, but Adora was soon on one knee, joining her on the floor.

"When did this happen?" she asked, setting a careful hand over Lonnie's bare thigh. A nasty cut drew a jagged spike up her dark skin, and Adora hissed in sympathy. "I'll get disinfectant."

Lonnie bull-dozed right past indignation at being caught, right into frustration. "I'm already applying disinfectant. Don't baby me."

She didn't have time to soothe Lonnie's feelings, which were often more fragile than she let on. "Does it hurt?" Adora asked. "I have some leftover painkillers from when they took that shrapnel out of my arm."

"It doesn't hurt," Lonnie said.

Raising an eyebrow, Adora responded by sinking her fingers into tender flesh. Lonnie bit her lower lip, a tremble working its way through her body.

And finally, a low, desperate whimper.

"I won't tell anyone." Adora reassured her, cupping Lonnie's face in one hand. That was always how affection worked between them, between everyone in their squad. Everything colored with cruelty, with pain. Otherwise, how could you trust it to be true? "Stay here."

It wasn't like she could go anywhere else. She left Lonnie in the supply closet and flew down the hallways, returning shortly with the painkillers. When she settled down next to Lonnie, she saw the other girl had already dressed the wound. Adora handed her an ice pack, a canteen, the painkillers, and then threw a blanket over the both of them and cuddled her.

She kept Lonnie's arm over her. One palm was pressed to Lonnie's hand, keeping the ice pack in place to reduce any swelling.

"What do you want from me?" Lonnie said after a while.

"Be nicer to Catra," Adora responded, and then kissed her cheek. "Please?"

The other girl shifted. Then she sighed. "Anything else?"

Adora kissed her again, tilting her head so that their lips met. "Be nicer to me."

Then she bit her, just hard enough to maintain pecking order, just to let her know it was sincere. Lonnie inhaled sharply, then kissed her back, one palm on the back of Adora's skull.

"...No promises."

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Glimmer**

 

There was a part of her that would always be different. The Horde took years from her life, stripped her willpower down until she didn't know what a healthy boundary looked like, much less how to establish one. There was no privacy, no secrets allowed, no personal space, nothing that could establish personhood.

Still, she should have known better than to stroke her fingers down Glimmer's naked back.

"Have I ever mentioned how pretty these are?" she said, tracing the shape of wings on each shoulder blade. Everything about Glimmer was pretty, from the way she spoke to the way she shone in the darkness, bright, glimmering like gemstones were embedded into every inch of her golden skin. "Are they tattoos? Or were you born with them?"

Glimmer didn't respond at first, standing there with her towel in hand. Her hair dripped, heavy and dark after a bath. Only clad in shorts; Adora wondered if it ever made her feel vulnerable. They'd been naked together before and neither of them had minded.

"Wh-when did you get in here?" Glimmer said, still standing with her back to Adora.

"I've been waiting in here?" Adora withdrew, glancing away. "You're dripping."

"Uh. Yeah. Thanks." Glimmer threw on a robe, towelling her hair dry. She refused to look at Adora. It slowly dawned on her that she'd done something wrong, but Glimmer wasn't going to admit it to spare her feelings.

Sighing in frustration, Adora averted her gaze. She hated playing this particular guessing game. "Should I not be in here without permission?"

That snapped Glimmer out of it, somewhat. Distress colored her voice as she quickly reassured Adora. "You can come into my room whenever you like! Sorry if I'm acting weird, you just surprised me."

She winced. Adora knew she could be quiet. It came from years of navigating the Fright Zone after-dark, when she should have been in her room. Being where she oughtn't, getting punished if she was caught. It made you careful what noises your feet made, what with how every lesson was literally beaten into her. Not even She-Ra's powers could heal scar tissue.

"Sorrryyyy," she sang, lifting one foot to point at the sole of her boot. "Got ghost feet."

"And ghost hands," Glimmer agreed, under her breath. Then she swung right back to normal, smiling brightly at Adora. "So what's up?"

Speaking of marks on her skin. Adora grimaced, pulling at her collar to show Glimmer what was wrong.

The smile dropped from Glimmer's face. "It's acting up again."

Adora nodded, then undid her jacket. She turned around, pulling her shirt over her head. Besides the scars of her childhood, a more recent development was causing the squad to worry about their friend.

It had been a careless mistake. Ever since the catastrophe that had broken the Black Garnet Runestone, she'd spearheaded recovery missions to try and fix what she had shattered. Reports had come in that there were Horde forces gathering near a large deposit, and so She-Ra had gone ahead of the advance party. It was a trap, and she'd gotten too close to shattered fragments of the Black Garnet, and ever since then...

Lightning forked down her skin, angry-red like something had slapped it onto her. Tree-like branches strained against her skin, every nerve and blood vessel mapped out and glowing faintly red.

 _Always breaking things,_ she thought. _Everywhere you go. Always leaving it shattered behind you._

Glimmer confirmed her fears. "It's definitely getting worse." This time Glimmer was the one touching her, though not with appreciation. Pressing her palms flat against Adora's back, Glimmer stepped closer. Her forehead was a comforting pressure right on the center of her back. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there, Adora."

"I don't feel sick." Adora wanted to protest, mainly because she didn't want her friend to worry or feel guilty for something that wasn't her fault. "I just wish I knew what it means when my body starts flaring up like this."

Glimmer pulled back, but Adora could sense she hadn't retreated far. "What'd my mom have to say?"

"Queen Angella said it might be best to call upon Mystacor's sages for aid."

Adora could hear Glimmer wince. "My mom? Willingly working together with my aunt? This must be more serious than I thought."

"Mmm." Adora covered her stomach with both hands, smiling weakly. "Just what I wanted to hear. Love having weird Runestone etchings on my skin! It's just so great."

Then Glimmer's voice dropped down to a tease. "At least they look pretty sick."

Adora huffed with laughter. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Warmth again, over Adora's hip. There was a splash of black ink there, a messy coverup of her old Horde tattoo. Now it meant nothing at all. "You look dangerous."

Adora flexed, unable to resist. Especially when a mapwork of red veins pulsed up her arm with every idle movement. "These guns _are_ pretty lethal." Forcing a straight face, she looked at Glimmer over her shoulder with concern in her voice. "And completely unregulated, so probably a safety hazard for the operator."

Glimmer tugged on her ponytail. "Dummy."

A moment of hesitation. Then Glimmer's fingers went down the nape of her neck, where Adora knew for a fact there were no marks. The fresh buzz of her haircut made it all the more sensitive, and she found herself wanting to rub against Glimmer like a cat.

She went lower, echoing what Adora had done to her moments before. A light stroke on either shoulder, tracing the outline of wings. When Glimmer touched her again, without reason, without inspecting the marks, a shiver went up her spine.

Belatedly, Adora realized her mistake. She must have made Glimmer feel like this. "Sorry for touching you earlier without permission."

The careful exploration halted.

"...You don't need permission to touch me, Adora."

So she turned around, curious and completely unselfconscious. It didn't matter to her that she was still bare from the waist up, though she felt maybe it ought to. Reaching out, she thumbed against a stray water droplet on Glimmer's cheek. "Good."

Then she squished Glimmer's face in between two palms.

"Because I can't get enough of your cute, round face!" She pulled and pinched, sighing in satisfaction. "Ugh, I just want to play with it all the time."

Glimmer waved her arms frantically, trying to escape as Adora pulled her closer with a squeal. _"Adora!"_

An eruption of sparkles filled Adora's palms. Reappearing on her bed, Glimmer peered at Adora angrily over the edge of the mattress like a small, angry bird hiding in her nest.

Adora set one foot on the first step up to Glimmer's bed, grinning up at her. "Aw, Glimmer. Don't be mad." An exhale of exertion left her as she leapt up to the second step. "It doesn't mean I don't also think of you as a fierce and powerful commander!"

"Okay, well, that wasn't the kind of touching I meant!"

A pillow hurtled towards her. Adora ducked, windmilling her arms to keep her balance as she flipped onto the third step. "Then what kind of touching did you mean?"

With another leap, she grabbed the edge of Glimmer's bed. Hanging off the frame, she let the whole thing swing slightly, peeking up at Glimmer with a smile in her eyes. Glimmer was sprawled out, arms wide and palms braced against the mattress as it swung from side to side.

Adora reached in, one palm cupping Glimmer's calf. Her left arm burned with the effort of holding all her body weight, but these days She-Ra's strength was as easy to tap into as her own. And it was worth it to touch Glimmer. Everything about her was soft, her skin silky and unmarred, so unlike Adora. Her touch shifted down, gripping Glimmer by the ankle as she rubbed her thumb in circles over the dome of her talus.

(Complete knowledge of physiology and anatomy was a useful skill to have, especially when you were mostly interested in breaking bones.)

"Get up here and find out," Glimmer breathed.

Perking up, Adora clambered the rest of the way inside Glimmer's bed. The princess was still off-balance, half-sitting up. Her lips pressed tightly together, every stray beam of moonlight making her shimmer in the dark. Both hands went up to her neck, unfastening her robe and pulling it off. Then they were equal again, naked from the waist up.

It wasn't anything Adora hadn't seen before, but that didn't mean she ever got tired of it. Then she remembered Glimmer evidently wanted to be touched, not looked at, so Adora crawled closer until she was sitting on top of her.

She took Glimmer's face between her hands again, but not as roughly as before.

Still. "Squish," she sang, gripping Glimmer's ears in between her knuckles and rubbing them like coins, for good luck.

"Oh, come on!" Glimmer complained.

Adora squished her cheeks again. "I'm getting to it."

Glimmer's face burned red-hot under her fingertips as she petted and stroked over her cheeks, her brows, the ridge of her nose. Then she sank her fingers deep into Glimmer's thick hair, massaging her scalp until the other girl let out a pleased groan.

"Adora," she said, covering Adora's hands with her own, eyes closing. "I- I love you."

Adora stopped, the back of her index finger brushing over the swell of Glimmer's lower lip. 

"I love you too, Glimmer," she said, an unexpected ache growing inside of her at the admission. They'd said it hundreds of times before, and each time carved at her like a knife, leaving joy instead of pain. "I wish you knew how much I loved you."

She pulled Adora closer. Adora barely had time to register the shock of pleasure that blew through her at the sensation of skin against skin. She would have been entranced just by the pounding of Glimmer's heart under her ribcage, but then Glimmer kissed her, winding both arms around Adora until they were locked tightly together.

Adora rose up with a gasp, bracing herself above Glimmer. "Oh!" she said, breathing heavily. " _That_ kind of touching. _Okay_. You could have just said so."

"Adora?!" Glimmer sounded panicked, now, and Adora was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the kiss. "Wait, time out. Are you okay? You got all glowy!" 

They both sat up. Adora looked down at herself to see her veins had lit up again, the lightning bolts curling and twisting down her sternum. "Huh," she said, examining the mapwork of black and red pulsing down her forearms. "Weird, but not painful, so I'm not too worried."

Glimmer dragged her hands down her face in distress. "You are way too casual about this."

"I dunno. I guess I figure at this point we've been through worse, and I'm all out of energy to be freaking out anymore." Adora glanced up, brow cocked. "Besides, you're shiny too."

Like shimmering stardust, all over her body. "Well I'm _supposed_ to look like that."

"Oh yeah?" Adora grinned, head tilted to the side. "Does anything ever turn it off?"

"Maybe. A girl can't reveal all her secrets at once."

So Adora tackled her down to the mattress, kissing her all over her face. The chain holding up her bed groaned in protest, swinging from side to side as the sound of giggling filled the room.

 

* * *

 

 

**Entrapta**

 

When the world spun, when the complexities of people and their lies and the webs of relationships and society threatened to cut her circulation, when Adora just needed something that had clear cut answers, she liked to fix things. The Fright Zone had no shortage of damaged vehicles in need of repair. Even if it was beneath her station as a Force Captain, no one ever dared question her.

And it helped in the war effort.

Sweat trickled down her forehead, her arms straining from the effort of keeping still. Steady, she had to remain steady as she plugged in the electric engine to the delicate steering machinery.

Steady.

Steady.

Steady...

"Force Captain Adora!"

Adora yelped, shocking herself and banging her head against the hood of the transport at the same time. Sucking on her fingertips, Adora pulled out of the vehicle to glare at Princess Entrapta.

Shadow Weaver insisted that the princess didn't get any special treatment, but that clearly wasn't the case. Even if she was useful, even if she single-handedly raised the standard for all machinery in the Fright Zone, even if she was... oddly friendly, Adora wasn't sure she was worth the stress of her rescue.

Catra, Scorpia, and Adora had been stuck in that labyrinth for _weeks_ trying to steal the princess.

 _I guess it didn't hurt that she turned out to be a willing captive_.

All they had to do was give her a bit of scrap and access to their tools and she'd gone nuts. The conflict between their lands didn't even seem to phase her, when she could be bothered to remember it at all. Catra of course took wicked delight in _corrupting_ a princess, and spent a good amount of time shadowing Entrapta wherever she went, studying her carefully. Meanwhile, Adora couldn't help but be slightly disgusted that someone could exist without any guiding principles at all, no allegiances or loyalty at all, floating through the world without a single thought in her head that didn't service herself and her amusement.

"Can I help you?" Adora muttered, slamming the hood shut. She turned around, leaned against it with her arms crossed, and regarded Entrapta with nothing but cool indifference. "...Princess?"

"Yes, actually," she said. The princess pushed herself off the ground a few inches, closing the distance between them so they could speak at eye-level. "It's regarding a fascinating social experiment I've observed among the ranks!"

"Uh-huh."

Entrapta spun around her, a measuring tape emerging from one of her many tool belts. She stretched it this way and that, studying Adora carefully. "And, well, it seems to center around you, Force Captain!"

Curiosity took ahold of her, despite herself. Her frame relaxed slightly, and Adora nodded for Entrapta to continue. "Yeah?"

"Yes, there's been a circulation, a rotation, you might say, of certain Horde members and their romantic relationship with you!" Entrapta lifted herself even higher, starting to shout with excitement. "I was wondering if there was maybe like a code you guys were following or maybe if it was going by lunar cycles, I keep trying to find a pattern but there's no rhyme or reason to— mmmhmhpph!"

Adora grabbed the princess by the mouth, shushing her and bringing her back down to ground level in one motion. "Be _quiet!"_ Adora said, her cheeks heating up. "Who I'm dating is none of your business. Okay?"

A short pause. Then Entrapta nodded, pulling Adora's hand down with her hair. "But I was wondering if I could join in?"

Taken aback, Adora let her hands drop to her side. "What?"

Again Entrapta loomed in, invading her personal space. "I enjoy the seemingly casual and noncommitted nature of Horde relationships," Entrapta said. "It looks less complicated than what the other princesses get up to!" Her head rolled back as she loudly lamented. "Soooo much drama."

"I bet," Adora muttered. Then, a beat. "Wait, is this a prank?"

She shook her head. "Prank? No! I want to engage in an experiment with a willing participant, and you especially are unattached at this point in time and unlikely to become emotionally dependent on me, given your history!"

"...Thanks."

Entrapta beamed. "You're welcome! Shall we engage with a kiss, just to start?" A notepad and a pencil appeared in her hand, notation beginning already. "I also appreciate a gift from time to time of useful or necessary mechanical components."

"You can't demand someone give you gifts just because you're dating," Adora started, already offended. "Also, I didn't say I would be your girlfriend!"

"Oh." Entrapta sank down again, this time without Adora's help. "Oh, of course. Right." Her mask went down, red gaze focusing on her shoes. "Sorry. I just got excited by the prospect, I didn't fully plan this through."

Deep inside her, past all the barriers she put up over the years to protect herself, Adora's heart twinged. She fought it. She really did. But in the end she had a hard time being mad at someone who had never really tried to hurt anyone.

_Am I seriously letting someone guilt trip me into a relationship?_

Adora shook her head to clear it, rubbing her palm against her forehead. "If you just want gifts and kisses, you don't have to date me." Uncomfortable now, Adora crossed her arms and looked away. "Honestly, I can just...give you those things. If you really wanted them. As a friend."

"Really?" Entrapta gasped, her hair pushing her mask up as she clasped her real hands together in joy. "Would you really be my friend? I've never had one of those either so this whole encounter is turning out to be an absolute net-positive for me!"

"Sure." It wouldn't be hard to requisition anything Entrapta needed. As Force Captain she could sign it away as being necessary for the war effort. And as for the rest... she glanced around quickly, finding the hangar bay mostly empty. Then Adora sighed, rolled her eyes, and pulled Entrapta close.

It was not entirely chaste. They pulled apart with a soft wet sound, and Adora lingered close, and she wasn't sure why. Entrapta's breath on her lips felt better than it had any right to.

"Was that good?" she asked softly.

"Oh, that was _excellent_ ," Entrapta said, breath hitching. A dozen hands, both real and conjured, coiled around Adora's every limb. Gentle, yet demanding. "But just to be sure, I'm going to need to run a _few_ more trials."

 

* * *

 

**Mermista**

 

Slowly, a trickle of boats returned to Salineas. It took time for word to spread out that the Sea Gate had been repaired, and time on top of that for the inbound voyages of the city's scattered people. Adora couldn't be more proud, standing next to Mermista on the docks as they surveyed the reconstruction. 

The loud chatter of many languages, port-patois, hammers and saws, the clatter of iron-shells harvested from the bottom of the bay, construction and decoration. There were children. Adora didn't realize how much she missed the sound of happy children until there weren't any.

Most of her friends didn't share the sentiment. Of course, she didn't like _handling_ children. She just liked knowing they were around. She liked the steady undercurrent of noise that only peace in wartime brought.

"Anyway," the princess of Salineas said, "I'm bored. Do you wanna makeout, or something?"

Hearing another unfamiliar word always put Adora off-kilter. The people of Etheria were always throwing around terms and ideas and concepts completely alien to her. What was worse was how the same concept could mean any number of radically different things from kingdom to kingdom.

There were few things she missed about the Horde. One of them was order. Enforced through cruelty, always, but at least it was _predictable_ cruelty.

"Uh, sure," Adora said, one arm across her waist in an instinctive, defensive fidget. She glanced around the port again, then down at the wood underneath her feet. It must be some kind of Salineas tradition. Probably fun, if Mermista was suggesting it, even if she pretended she didn't want to do it. "Why don't you go first?"

Mermista rested her cheek on one fist, staring at Adora with flat irritation. Immediately, Adora knew she had said the wrong thing, had once again been caught flagrantly displaying all the gaps in her knowledge of social norms.

"It's not the kind of thing you take turns doing," Mermista said after a while. "Ughhhh, you're so depressing."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Adora muttered.

"Tch. Whatever." Mermista's eyes darted aside, back towards the sea. "It's not like I really wanted to do it or anything. I'm not gonna kiss someone who still needs to keep the training wheels on."

 _Training wheels!_ Finally, a term she understood, at least through context clues. Something about being unable to operate certain vehicles unassisted or without safeguards. Clearly it was being used as a metaphor in this situation... unless Mermista was offering to take her on a voyage in one of her skiffs. Adora thought she might actually enjoy that very much.

She was about to say so, until the rest of the sentence went through her filters, coming back with a red alert:

"Wait," Adora said. "Kiss? You want to kiss me? Why?"

To her surprise, the tips of Mermista's ears turned ruddy. "Drop it. I already told you, I changed my mind. You don't know left from right, it'd be like making out with a toddler."

There was that phrase again, _making out_. Adora wished the people of Etheria would speak plainly for once. "I know how to kiss people," she grumbled, rubbing her arm.

"Okay," Mermista said. "And?"

"And I just don't like people pretending I'm totally ignorant."

"So prove me wrong," Mermista said.

Adora mentally cursed herself. Then, before she lost her nerve, she yanked Mermista closer, scrunched up her face, and kissed her on the cheek.

"See?" she said upon drawing away, aware that they were both scarlet-faced now.

"Ohhhhh," Mermista said, both hands covering her eyes. "It's even worse than I thought. You don't know _anything_."

"Wh- I know things!" Adora sputtered as the princess shook her head and walked away. "Hey! Wait! Mermista! I know things!"

 

* * *

 

 

**Perfuma**

 

"I'm glad you were able to see Plumeria in her full glory." 

Adora was glad, too. She rested her head on Perfuma's lap, the sword of She-Ra held in her open fist. Occasionally she glanced over at it, just to reassure herself it was still there. But as time went on, she worried less, and less, and less...

Adora's head tingled as Perfuma strokes her nails through her hair. It felt so good to be touched, especially now, without the edge of cruelty lining over every action she took.

She tilted her head back a bit, staring up at Perfuma with wide eyes. The princess smiled down at her, fond and faint. "You're so pretty, Perfuma."

It should have bothered her. She didn't mean to say that out loud. The thought kept crowding her head, though, from day one, and suddenly it didn't feel so important to let it stay inside her head. Now it was outside, and Adora was lighter, and free.

Perfuma bit back a smile. "Oh?"

Solemnly, Adora nodded. "I was too nervous to say it before."

"And are you nervous now, sweet pea?"

Fragrant plumes of smoke curled around the room, filling her with tranquility. Her whole body tingled in pleasure when Perfuma raked her nails through blonde tresses again. "I'm always nervous."

Hit by the absurdity of that, Adora started giggling, and then Perfuma started giggling, and they were both sprawled out in her tent, laughing like a pair of fools. The back of Adora's hand brushed against Perfuma's stomach. Perfuma laced their fingers together. Then Adora was inching closer, kissing her cheek. And then her forehead. And then Perfuma's lips.

She was so sweet, so giving, so gentle, so willing. Adora's mouth opened to the kiss, lazy and indulgent. They coiled together on the floor, the temperature in the room rising alongside the burning embers in the corner, billowing out bright yellow and purple tendrils with whatever magic made Adora feel so _relaxed_.

Perfuma had to break the kiss first, reluctantly, her face flushed with desire. "We probably shouldn't go too far," she said, toying with a lock of Adora's hair. "Not while you're like this."

"Go too far where?" Adora mumbled back, reaching for her again.

Laughing, Perfuma pushed her hands away. "Yyyyup. I think that's a cause for a break." She turned a complaining Adora in her arms until they were spooned comfortably together. And that was good, so Adora settled down. Especially when Perfuma started touching her hair again, pulling it free of the ponytail so she could comb it. "Who'd've thought the legendary She-Ra was such a lightweight?"

"I'm a welterweight," Adora said, sounding self-important. "Three year champion in the Horde amateur league."

Perfuma hummed as if she was very impressed. "Ohhh, I see. Well, maybe we can convince Miss Champion to drink some water in a bit?"

Adora thought about it. Then she nodded. "Water sounds good."

A few hours later when Glimmer came to collect her, she was _not_ pleased. While Bow tried to saddle up a completely wasted Adora into her saddle, Glimmer let Perfuma know exactly how many missteps she'd made.

"I'm sorry!" Perfuma said, wringing her hands. "I thought the lowest dosage wouldn't..."

"Save it, Perfuma!" Glimmer clutched her skull, groaning in distress. "Aughh, my mom is gonna have my _head_ if I bring Adora home like this."

"You could always spend the night...?" Perfuma suggested.

"If I'm not home by sunrise she'll flip even harder!"

After a hushed conversation on what might sober Adora up, Glimmer returned to the horses. She could hear Bow speaking soothingly to their friend, his low voice a warm comfort.

"Yup, there you go, Adora. Nice and easy, just hold onto the saddle. I'll be up there soon," he said with a smile, a smile which dropped completely as he turned to Glimmer and hissed, " _Dude, she's tripping balls right now_." 

"I can _see_ that, Bow."

It was a long, woozy trip back home.

 

* * *

 

 

**Scorpia**

 

"Adora!"

Nestled comfortably in her reading nook by the window, Adora twitched at the familiar crack in Bow's voice. Something was wrong; she was on her feet in an instant, buckling her belt and swinging the sword over her shoulder.

"What is it?" she asked, pausing when she noticed Bow and Glimmer were both fighting to get through her door first to deliver the news.

"It's not an emergency," Glimmer said.

"It kind of is," Bow countered.

"But it's not like a huge deal," Glimmer insisted. "And it's definitely not my fault!"

Bow squished Glimmer back and then stepped into Adora's room, hands outstretched in a plea. "We lost the prisoner!" 

A shower of sparkles made Adora flinch back a half-step as Glimmer appeared in front of her. "No, we didn't! We just don't know where she is!"

"The prisoner?" Adora glanced back at the window. "You mean Scorpia? She's fine, I saw her by the lake just a second ago."

The two of them paused. Then they crowded Adora near her window, peering out to confirm what she'd said. Sure enough, there was a vaguely familiar red dot by the shore. She'd been going there the same time every day; it was pretty testament to how lax their supervision was that they only just noticed what started a week ago.

"We can't let her stay outside the palace too long," Bow said, sounding nervous. "Not until... Well I mean things are still so... I mean it's just probably not a good idea!"

"I'll go get her, Adora offered. "You two stay here."

A large outcropping of rock disrupted the river just outside Bright Moon. It looked like the aftermath of some great impact, the echoes of it still felt centuries later. The end result was a small lake, and Scorpia sat on the edge with a wooden rod in hand and what looked like hand-made bait lying next to her. From her vantage point high up in her room, Adora didn't know what Scorpia did out here every day. As she drew closer, she heard Scorpia humming, and the splash of water.

Adora watched, at first. Some small part of her wondered if there was more than met the eye with their captured Force Captain. Maybe she was sending secret messages in bottles down the river to where reinforcements were waiting.

Or maybe she was just fishing.

Adora ensured her feet made noise as she approached, mindful of how quiet she could be.

So Scorpia's head tilted a bit in greeting, though she didn't turn around. "Hi, Adora. It's a nice day for fishing, isn't it?"

Adora sat down next to her. "I wouldn't know. I've never done it."

Now Scorpia finally looked at her, her mouth shaped into a little o of shock. "No way. Really? I used to go all the time with my dad." She flicked her line out, humming in satisfaction as the bait bobbed in the deeper waters. "It's also a nice thing to do alone. Just you and the fishies."

The empty summer sky beat down on them mercilessly, though Scorpia seemed to relish in it. Her joints creaked, looking a little baked, and her fair skin had started to take on a healthy sun-kissed glow. Adora had brought something cool to drink. She offered Scorpia some of her juice.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, unsure if there was a more delicate way to approach this.

Scorpia beamed. "Peachy. Retired life suits me."

"You're not... I mean, it's..." Adora couldn't look at Scorpia any longer, and the sun was winking painfully against the lake water. So she could only stare at her own hands, watch how the corruption of the Black Garnet made her veins glow faintly, even in the daylight. "Despite the fact that I destroyed your Runestone?"

_And possibly your whole kingdom?_

Scorpia got a bite, or she thought she did. The pole flicked, empty. Those claws were surprisingly quick, as Adora knew from experience. But watching them nimby untangle the fishing line was still fascinating. Scorpia learned from hard experience how to be careful, and even if her claws weren't sharp, they could snap through anything. Even flesh and bone.

She flicked the line out again. "Oh, that. It hadn't belonged to me or my family in a long time. Wasn't really much of a kingdom anymore at that point, either."

A rattle of scales as her tail shifted.

Scorpia sighed. "Every day I woke up over there I thought about breaking that Runestone myself."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm." When Adora dared to look up at her again, Scorpia still had a brilliant smile on her face. "You see an animal dying and in pain long enough, and little piece of you wants to just put it out of its misery. You know?"

She did know.

Scorpia's eyes dropped down to Adora's exposed shoulders, her neck, the back of her palms. The remnants of the Black Garnet left their mark on her, and even now, she still didn't know what would happen to her in the long run.

The line twitched, this time for real. With an excited shout, Scorpia pulled a shining mass of scales out of the upset water. Reeling it in, Scorpia whistled in appreciation. She freed the hook from the fish's mouth, holding it in between her claws. Carefully, just enough so that it couldn't wiggle free.

"A real beauty," Scorpia said. He _was_ beautiful, especially in the sunlight. The fish twisted and turned, and what appeared pure silver actually rippled bright blue, in the right angles. "You wanna hold him?"

Wincing, Adora lifted up one palm. "Uh, no thanks."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Carefully, Scorpia knelt at the water's edge. Then she let the fish go, letting him slip out of her claws and thrash back into the depths.

"You don't keep them?"

"Heh. Nah." Scorpia waved at the waters. "Poor things've got it rough enough what with everything else trying to eat them. I just like looking at them flop around sometimes!"

Scorpia had finished her juice, but Adora's remained mostly untouched. So she nudged her, gesturing for her to finish it off, if she wanted.

Unexpectedly, Scorpia flushed.

"Are you okay?" Adora asked. "I think maybe you should wear a hat if you're going to be out in the sun like this."

"Um." Scorpia mumbled something just under her breath. Adora didn't quite catch it, but it sounded like _indirect kiss_. Whatever that meant. "No, I'm fine."

Scorpia took the glass, hesitating over it a moment before drinking it down. Then her tail snaked out, pulling an umbrella out from behind the rocks. "I brought this," she explained, propping the umbrella up over them both. "There's enough room for two, if you want to hang around. But I only have one fishing pole so you might get bored."

"I'll be fine." Adora reassured her.

So they stayed together for a while longer, enjoying the silence and the occasional splash of water when Scorpia caught a fish.

"I wish I'd known you sooner," Scorpia said. "Before all of this happened. I wish I'd met you in the Horde. It would've been so nice to have a friend."

Privately, Adora agreed. Even if it would have been frowned upon. Even if Scorpia was a princess, and back then Adora would have loathed her for it. Even if it hadn't stayed a friendship, maybe.

They covered the rules of fraternization within the ranks during Force Captain Orientation, right?

 

* * *

 

 

**Madame Razz**

 

"Mara, dearie, have I done something to offend you?"

With her arms ladened with more of the clutter Razz kept in her house, Adora took a moment to find her balance.

"Hmm?" she said, focusing mostly on the chipped bowl hanging off her elbow. Springtime had arrived, and of course Razz wanted to clean house. This happened every year, and yet somehow every year there was just as much clutter as the last.

Still, Adora wanted to help. Razz couldn't and shouldn't be lifting heavy objects alone.

Razz's big eyes stared at her, distorted by the lenses of her spectacles. "Why, you never ask old Razz for her blessing anymore," she said, wizened face melting into a frown. "Maybe I've lost your respect in my old age. But that doesn't mean I don't still worry about you."

Even though she had no idea what Razz was talking about, she rolled with it. Half of hanging out with Razz meant practicing her improv game. "Uh, the blessing. Right." Adora deposited all the garbage into a cloth sack just outside the door frame. "I guess I've just been too busy to ask. Can I have a blessing please, ma'am, if you're not too busy?" 

The old woman shook with glee, dancing from foot to foot. "Oh, Mara. Of course you can! I'm so happy you asked!"

Gripping her hand tightly, Razz smiled up at her before kissing the back of her palm. There was a spark of light, and warmth. Then Adora wasn't sure what to do, so she awkwardly said, "Thank you, Razz."

"No, no, dearie." Razz had her clutch in both hands now. So small, so thin. Adora could feel her bones right through the flesh. "Thank _you_. It's a great honor to know someone still wants my blessing after all these years."

"Well, of course I do." Adora reassured her, putting an arm around her shoulder in a brief, fond hug. "Who wouldn't?"

 

* * *

 

 

**Queen Angella**

 

She swept through the palace of Bright Moon. In the dead of night, with her hood up, she got stopped only once. But she lowered the fabric, eye glinting in the moonlight, and the guards let her pass without another word. Her boots had tread this same path so many times over the decade that she sometimes thought there ought to be a trail left behind, grooves in the marble from the twist of her heel as she went to Queen Angella's chambers. 

They were empty, so there was only one other place she could be.

Heroes and villains loomed over her. Adora's steps always slowed in here, cat-quiet, because it was a place of reverence and history. Precious gems and etchings, carved into the walls. She passed her old room, empty for years, and followed faint traces of light until she came around the corner and there Angella was, gazing at her.

Or, an etching of her.

Adora's eye flicked upward, scanning over Adora's likeness from thirty years before. She stepped closer, smiling wryly at the serious expression on Angella's face, the way she pored over the carvings like she was searching for something.

"Come now, Angella," Adora said. She slipped one hand across the small of Angella's back, palm resting under the graceful arch of her wings. "I'm not dead yet."

Centuries of learned composure couldn't erase base instinct. Angella flinched away, only for Adora's hold to tighten and tug her closer until they were chest to chest. "Adora?"

Adora covered those soft pink lips with her own, muffling whatever she was going to say next.

Soft hands wound behind her neck, fingers sinking into the hair at the nape. Angella held her tight, wings flaring out and around them both protectively, like the translucent white feathers could shield them.

"You're a very wicked girl," Angella said when she pulled back with a gasp, nails tracing the lines on Adora's face. Angella was the only person who called her a girl still, but then again, Adora supposed they were all children compared to her.

On the wall, hammered starmetal shone in the shape of She-Ra's sword. Adora caught a glimpse of her reflection in the polished surface, and contrasted herself against that old portrait. The scar tissue that bubbled up around her missing eye, the weatherbeaten face. More silver in her hair than gold. More or less the same height. When she changed into She-Ra she didn't grow much taller, either. That had been an affectation of her youth, her desire to seem larger than life.

Shifting these days was a much less dramatic transition. She'd grown into the mantle of protector, no matter which form she took. And when she shifted back into Adora, she didn't feel quite so much like she was shrinking into something small and weak and less-than. Both sides of her held their charm and their strengths, and Queen Angella had memorized every single one.

"When did you arrive?" Angella demanded. Then she followed Adora's line of sight, to the etching of She-Ra carved into the wall, and her face colored slightly.

"I missed you, too." A single flight feather floated down. Adora caught it between her fingers, making it dance. "If only I had a life-sized likeness of you to cart around with me on my journeys, Your Majesty."

Adora tucked the feather into her pocket, to join the collection in her trunk. She thought eventually she might have enough of them to weave into a pair of wings for herself. A cloak to match the queen for formal events. Unbearably bold, and cheeky. No one would dare question her for it, though, least of all Angella.

Physically, the queen had not changed at all. But Adora's perception of her had. She remembered the queen seemed so adult when they first met, severe and wizened.

Looking at her now, Adora thought Angella seemed desperately young. Barely older than her only daughter. The pressure of ruling weighed on her and it looked heavy, too heavy for her slight frame.

Stepping back from the queen, Adora regarded her own likeness. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, smirking at the image of herself as a youth. That moment, immortalized forever. Angella on her throne, vindicating and blessing Adora. The champion kneeling before Angella, the sword of She-Ra offered in both hands like a sacrifice.

"When you look at this, do you remember me as I am?" she wondered. "Or do you envision the girl I was when I first started courting you?"

Angella's gentle fingers drew Adora's attention away from the portrait and back to her.

"Whether I look upon your face or just a likeness, or when you come to me in dreams, I always see every aspect of you, Adora. Like facets in a gemstone." She traced the lines on Adora's face again, mapping them out, committing them to memory. "And I wonder if I knew then what pain I would force you to endure, if I would still allow you to serve me."

That just made her grin wider. Flaring her cape out dramatically, Adora fell down to one knee. She kept Angella's palm over her cheek a moment longer, then she drew the queen's hands to her lips.

She kissed her delicately, every fingertip, before planting one last kiss on the back of her palm.

"Your Majesty," she said, "I wouldn't change a thing. I'd endure it all a thousand times over if it meant I still earned your heart."

Angella's brow quirked up, her lips flat completely unamused. "You've been reading trashy poetry again, Adora."

Adora lunged, sweeping the queen off her feet so that she was forced to hold onto Adora by the shoulders or lose her balance. "You love it," she declared, and then carried Angella back to her chambers.

The guards knew better than to interrupt them.

 

* * *

 

 

**Frosta**

 

The two of them observed the melting snow, Adora with fascination and Frosta with resigned satisfaction. 

"These glaciers have been forming for centuries," Frosta said, watching them shrink. "The resulting meltwater will flood the lands south of us for miles."

And take out the entire fortress Hordak had set up. Once Mermista got ahold of all that fresh water as well, it would be game over.

"Are you sure about this, Frosta?" Adora asked with concern. "It will take generations to restore the ice again."

"Don't underestimate me," Frosta said. "My line has a long memory. The task will continue on through my descendents and beyond, as I carry on the will of my parents." 

As always, hearing such somber declarations from a form so small made her own heart melt like icewater. Unable to help herself, Adora leaned down and kissed her cheek. Frosta glared at her, rubbing the spot with a mitten-clad hand. 

"Thank you," Adora said, meaning it. "I won't forget. My descendants won't either. I'll make sure of it."

"Hmm." Frosta waved her aside. "See that they don't."

 

* * *

 

 

**Shadow Weaver (tw for parental abuse)**

 

"Come here, Adora."

Shadow Weaver extended an arm and Adora ran to her, tucking herself against the woman's side and hugging her tight. A hand rested briefly on top of her head, stroked through her hair and remaining there. It was easy; Adora was barely tall enough to reach her waist.

Above them, the clouds parted as if god had punched a hole through the sky. The endless mire and murk of the Fright Zone vanished for a single radius, allowing the empty sky to shine down on them. Another brief spell fell over them, and in that space, the flickering image of star patterns imposed itself over the clear sky.

"Remember this sight," Shadow Weaver instructed her, fondly petting her head once again. "The Winter Solstice is when the constellations shine brightest. It's my favorite time of year."

"What's a constellation?"

"A pattern of stars." She waved her hands and the mirage vanished, and the smog coiled up like water draining down a pipe, and the sky darkened again. "But they don't shine anymore, my dear. Not anymore."

"How come?"

Shadow Weaver inhaled, ready to explain, and the entire world shattered around them. Two decades passed in the blink of an eye, another Solstice, another night, another Shadow Weaver and another Adora.

She was screaming, or trying to, pinned to the wall by a massive, billowing plume of smoke. It crawled down into her lungs, choking her until her eyes burned and watered, and no matter how hard she thrashed Adora knew she was going to die here and everything she worked for would be over.

Adora's feet kicked out at nothing as she rose, higher and higher. Hangman's noose gone wrong. There was no quick snap of vertebrae here. She was going to suffocate slowly and Shadow Weaver would enjoy every second of it.

"One last kiss goodnight," Shadow Weaver hissed, choking her harder.

Of course. After all this, death would be like falling asleep, maybe. No more pain.

That was some comfort, even if it was overshadowed by one terrible thought: she would die with Shadow Weaver consuming every inch of her. She would die overwhelmed by her, unable to see or think or feel anything else but the smoke in her lungs and her stomach, claws tearing her apart from the inside out.

She reached for the sword of She-Ra, trying to fight with her last scrap of life. Even if it was useless, she had to try.

Adora awoke drenched in sweat, her arm thrown over her head and her blankets kicked off the bed and onto the floor.

It was another Solstice and it was another night and another Adora, years later, and Shadow Weaver was dead.

Outside she could faintly hear the sounds of celebration. Usually on this night, Adora would turn in early. It wasn't out of grief, she was fairly sure. The anniversary of Shadow Weaver's death just happened to fall on a holiday she didn't enjoy. The longest night of the year. A dark so deep that every year she wondered if the sun would ever rise again, and she shivered and trembled until rose-fingered dawn relieved her and she could pass into a dreamless sleep.

Rolling out of bed, Adora went to the trunk at the foot of her bed and dug through it until she found what she wanted. Wrapped in tarp, a broken red clay mask. Adora dug her thumb into the forehead, where a fragment of the Black Garnet had sat. Sister to the shard that lay nestled in her own spine, that made her veins sing with unearned power.

Throwing her cloak over her shoulders, Adora went outside, slipped past the revelers, and exited Bright Moon to the Whispering Woods just outside.

She knew if the situation were reversed, Shadow Weaver would not spend an ounce of regret mourning her. So Adora lit a candle anyway and she propped the mask against a tree and she knelt before it, hands on her lap.

Maybe this would grant her some peace of mind. A vigil. Ritual. Things like that had rules, didn't they? Adora still liked rules, all these years later. She craved them as often as she bucked against them, a rebel at heart no matter how carefully Shadow Weaver had shaped her.

"If I give you the longest night of the year," she whispered. "Will you finally leave me alone?"

The mask did not respond. It was the only thing that survived when Adora had killed Shadow Weaver. It would have to serve, in place of a body.

Adora started digging. Thankfully it didn't take long. The dirt wasn't rigid with frost yet, and she was so much stronger now than she'd ever been before. Lingering over the grave, Adora held the mask in her hands one last time, wanting to remember something other than pain.

It took Adora a long time to understand that becoming She-Ra meant facing her own flaws. At first, after years of being told she was special, it had felt like confirmation of everything Shadow Weaver had told her she was. Perfect. Infallible. Meant for greater things. Shadow Weaver had _built_ her to be perfect. And as much as she was idolized now, Adora never experienced anything like that again. Being the center of someone's universe to the point of unhealthy obsession.

Hot tears trailed down her face, falling onto the mask. She wiped them aside with her thumb, leaving a faint smear in the dust.

"This would be so much easier if I hated you," Adora said. "But I still— I s-still—"

The mask dropped from her numb hands as Adora covered her face with them both, weeping so suddenly that it caught her defenseless. It was frighteningly loud in the wake of so many years spent in silence. It left her screaming, the sound ragged as if she were about to be sick.

She'd never cried like this, not even when she was a little girl. Overwhelmed with everything she'd been pushing down, she was left with no other outlet except shrieks of pain. Like a dying prey animal. Like a fox in heat. Like something dark in the woods that didn't have a name.

_Why did you do that to me?_

Biting it back down, Adora took a deep, trembling breath. She scooped a handful of dirt over the mask, wiping her tears off on her shoulder. As the night stretched on she tried not to scream again, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself.

_Why did you do that to me?!_

It wouldn't have taken much. All Adora needed was a reason to not run away. She needed to know that she was doing _good_. And yes, she knew how stupid that sounded, how childish, how naive, how juvenile.

Then she burned, because who had taught her those things were frivolous? Who had taught her that? Who convinced her softness was weakness? Who convinced her that her heart was a liability?

Yet every lesson beaten into her skin seemed true in that moment. If her heart wasn't so soft, she wouldn't be in so much pain.

_Why did you hurt me?_

Stopping halfway because her vision was too blurry and her hands too uncertain to do the job well, Adora let herself sob a little more. Her breathing hitched and she allowed it, because her whole chest ached when she tried to stifle the whimpers.

The grave was half full. She needed to finish this before dawn.

_Why didn't you love me?_

That was the worst part, the part that she refused to say out loud.

Despite it all Adora could never bring herself to believe that Shadow Weaver _didn't_ love her.

She hated how much Shadow Weaver still lived in everything she did. She hated how the first expressions of love she ever knew came from a hand that only ever wanted to hurt her. She hated how there were still inside jokes that she couldn't share with anyone, because the only people in on the joke were dead and she had murdered them. She hated how she could still taste her in every stray wisp of smoke. She hated how much she still craved that touch, to be stroked like a pet, her face caressed or her hair brushed or the center of her back rubbed.

She hated the Solstice, and she hated Shadow Weaver so, so, so, so much, and she would never, ever forgive her.

She hated how much she still loved her, and when the grave was filled Adora sat holding her knees to her chest and she cried wretched heaving sobs until there was nothing left.

The only way to survive this going forward, she tried to remind herself, was to understand that Shadow Weaver _lied_. There were people in her life who cared about her. Adora's big heart and all her flaws were what made her a person and not a tool, groomed to obey orders without question. There was still goodness in the world that desperately needed defending, and she would continue to fight for her ideals in spite of all the cruelty life had handed her.

 

 

And yet.

 

 

On nights like this, all alone, it was so hard to remember that. It was hard to believe anyone cared about her or needed her at all.

"No one will ever love you as much as I do, Adora," Shadow Weaver had promised her, full of warmth, full of affection.

And on the longest night of the year, Adora could only weep, terrified that it might be true.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Netossa and Spinnerella**

 

She heard them before she saw them, cautiously creaking open the meeting room door to reveal the two princesses in the middle of a heated argument. 

"Me?" Netossa was saying, offended at the very thought. "I'm not going to repeat myself. Obviously it's _you_ , Spinner."

"This is the problem," Spinnerella pointed out, stomping one foot. "You're so stubborn! I can't say anything without you immediately contradicting me!"

"Is this a couple's thing," Adora said, reluctantly stepping in. "Because we're about to have a meeting now and we _really_ can't be having a couple thing in the middle of that."

Netossa's eyes alighted on her, triumphant. "Excellent timing, Adora." She addressed her wife next. "We'll just let the She-Ra mediate this. Will that satisfy you, my love?"

Suddenly, Spinnerella deflated, all her arguments dying on her lips. "We can't ask the She-Ra for help with this," she said. "It wouldn't be right."

Adora sighed. Another problem for the She-Ra to solve. "I don't know how much help I'll be," she said, "But if will get you two to stop arguing, then I have to try. What's up?"

"My wife won't let her humble, pious act drop long enough to admit she's the better kisser."

"Netossa!"

"Well, you won't!"

"And you think each of us kissing the She-Ra will solve this _how_?"

"She's a neutral third party," was Netossa's reasoning. "Unbiased. What do you say, Adora?"

A long pause. The two of them blinked, realizing the space next to the door was suddenly very empty.

"Adora? Where did she go...?"

Adora booked it back out towards the throne room, thinking that this was one problem she could reasonably ignore.

 

* * *

 

 

**Castaspella**

 

The mages never slept in Mystacor. Adora found that while the noise and bustle of scholars and wizards settled down with the darkening skies, she could always count on finding some quiet company in the meditation rooms, the public baths, the murmuring beaches. Usually introverts, like her. Nose deep in a book, ignoring her completely. Probably awake for different reasons, but at least she wasn't completely alone. 

_You know if you ever need someone to talk to, we're here._

She knew.

Unfortunately, there was no easy way to explain to her definitely virgin and probably innocent friends that what she needed was to be fucked to within an inch of her life.

It had been _so_ much easier in the Horde. There were no strings attached unless you were setting up something transactional.

She knew Catra had often been tempted to try seducing her way towards more favors, but the cons outweighed the pros. Sleeping with superior officers was good if you wanted to stay safe and protected, bad if you wanted any chance at rising up in the ranks. Once you tied yourself to someone more powerful than you, it was very hard to sever that dynamic.

As much as Adora loved her new friends, and loved being around them, she knew she could never, ever, _EVER_ sleep with them. They were too precious about sex, for one thing. Adora didn't quite understand it, but she respected it, and she knew that she could never give them what they needed out of it. Same with Catra. Everything about their relationship was _defined_ by strings.

Before, her needs were carefully dissected and easily met. She'd had it down to a science. She'd find someone in another unit, of her own rank. Study them for a few weeks to make sure they weren't too dangerous. Engage in some quick surveillance to see if they were unattached and of compatible orientations.

Quick, no mess, no feelings, just an easy way to vent steam.

Now, the next best thing was to hang around where other people would completely ignore her. To know she wasn't the only quiet, living soul awake at night. Whatever kept them all from sleep, they shared this in common, and Adora found a measure of satisfaction in it.

Until someone sat next to her, midnight robes spilling out over the sandy beaches.

"You're up late, Adora," Queen Casta said, looking out of place in the mists and shadows. She had a bright personality; it shone when she smiled. There was something girlish in it— that smile made her think of Glimmer, artless and wide and bubbly. Adora imagined Glimmer's father must have been much the same way.

Adora found herself sitting up a little straighter, hands on her lap. "Your Majesty."

The Queen of Mystacor clucked her tongue, waving one hand at Adora. "None of that, now. You can just call me Casta, you know."

"I absolutely cannot do that," Adora responded without meaning to. She hadn't gotten a lot of sleep still. That, combined with the oddness of the hour and the tension of this meeting, made her tongue more loose than she liked. "Uh, ma'am."

Queen Casta lifted one shoulder in a shrug, eyes closing as if to say _oh well_.

Tension coiled up at the base of Adora's spine. She felt wound up suddenly, not prepared to make small talk, not now when she was quietly simmering in the dark.

She wasn't sure whether or not to be thankful that Queen Casta cut right to the point. "Have you been able to relax at all since your encounter with Shadow Weaver?"

 _No._ "It's been uneventful."

"That's not the same thing, Adora."

A wisp of cloud wrapped around her ankle. Adora pulled her legs up higher, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring out into the twinkling, star-shining sea. The last thing she wanted to do right now was talk about her feelings. She'd done enough of that to last the whole month, thanks.

Beside her, she felt Queen Casta shift, a soft sigh escaping her. "Do you mind if I try something? Just to see if it might help."

Adora glanced at her, out of the corner of her eye. She didn't like staring too long at people. Even though she often wanted to, she rarely had the chance to do it without seeming like the outsider she was. Broken, and different, and odd.

Patiently, with no expectation at all, Casta waited. As the time stretched on, Adora waited for her grin to spoil, to be lashed at for denying a display of power over her. Casta reminded her of Glimmer in more ways than one, and so Adora waited for the queen to bluster her way through what she thought was the best course of action.

But instead, Casta leaned closer, her breath low with a conspiratorial whisper.

"You can say no, Adora," Casta said, biting back another smile. "I promise I won't be offended."

 _I can say no_.

The idea alone was freeing. Something inside her unshackled, a weight dropping from her shoulders. She agreed before she could change her mind, nervous still as she sat with her back to Casta, and felt a cold hand on the vulnerable nape of her neck.

"Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at all," Casta said, spreading her fingers over Adora's scalp.

There would be no danger of that. If anything, it felt a little too good to be touched by the queen, warmth slowly seeping through her fingers as they searched for something in the whorls of her hair. Adora bit her lip to avoid groaning, a subtle vibration trembling through her whole body.

"Ahh," Casta said, "Right here. I found you."

What happened next was hard to describe. It was as though a rod of pure ice lanced through her head, clearing her anxieties in an instant. This time Adora really did groan, a helpless noise that made Casta laugh.

Shivers rolled up the back of her neck. "What did you just do?"

"There's physical pathways in our body, where energy flows and rests." A nail scraped down her spine, stopping just short of the collar of her shirt. "Think of them like, mmm, rivers. They do get blocked up from time to time, and it can wreak absolute havoc on our health."

The top of her head pulsed, and Adora could suddenly feel what Casta meant. It was worse than any knot in her muscle or strain in her joints. It was like a besmirchment on her entire soul, one that she never even realized was burdening her until the weight had been lifted.

Casta gripped her whole skull next, index fingers rubbing slow circles around her crown until they focused right between her eyes. Another hit, this one much calmer, cooler. It felt more like gas expanding and releasing, a puff of smoke into the air that vanished in a stray breeze.

This was better than any massage Adora had ever received in her life, and so far all Casta had done was smoosh her head a little.

_Magic is awesome._

"Tilt your head back?"

From someone else it might have been an order. Adora obeyed anyway, eager to see what would happen next.

Casta lingered over her neck, reaching around to stroke the front of Adora's throat. Something shone, flickering and cold blue, even when she closed her eyes. There was no relief; if anything, her throat constricted more, tightening like it was drying up.

"Oh, dear." Casta's influence retreated as she rubbed her palm over Adora's throat. The tension dissipated some, but there was no sense of true relief. "I might not be able to do anything for you in this area, Adora. But that's probably for the best, we should stop here."

Her heart sank. Twisting around, she tried very hard not to sound like she was sulking when she asked, "Why?"

A rueful grin. "The energies blocked here are concerned with truth, and lies. The only cure would be something similar to a truth spell, and I would not subject you to something like that." Casta tapped a finger under Adora's chin, plucky and teasing. "You're a woman in a position of power. We must keep certain things secret, hmmm?"

"Well," Adora mumbled, "Would it be a permanent spell?"

Casta shook her head. "Nothing in this world is permanent."

"Then keep going. I don't have any secrets that might hurt anybody else, and I'm a lousy liar, anyway."

Adora could feel Casta's hesitation, an odd tension growing in the silence. Truth and honesty were hard won luxuries once you reached a certain level of influence, it seemed, because Casta was definitely trying to protect her. "Well if you change your mind, just tell me. I can end the spell at the drop of a hat, okay?"

She nodded, and to her surprise, Casta forced her to turn around entirely. The sand shifted under her like a living thing, easing the movement so that she was staring up at the queen with wide eyes. "Say you understand."

Her heart started beating a little faster, most of her attention on how Casta's hands were warm now, gripping her shoulders so tight. "Um. I understand."

"Good."

She kept Adora facing her for the next part, and Adora didn't know where she should look. Into Casta's eyes, dark and focused? Her lips, mumbling in a language she didn't understand? The crease on her brow? The divot of her throat, the spill of white flesh in the v of her robes, the curve of her shoulder, the—

Blossoming, billowing, thrumming blue light.

" _Oh_ ," Adora whispered around the lump in her throat, the one being smoothed out by Casta's thumb. Her eyes were closed, bliss throbbing through her. "That feels good."

"So I've been told." Casta straddled the line between amused and smug. "Ready for the next one?"

"There's more?" Adora said, delighted. "Thank goodness. I was already trying to come up with an excuse for you to keep touching me— _uh!"_

Adora's eyes shot open. She covered her mouth with both hands, flushing bright red.

"The one after the next deals with shame." Casta's hand rested over Adora's chest, burning white-hot now. "If you think you're being honest now, wait until you see yourself without that holding you back."

Again, she wasn't sure whether to be horrified or pleased that Casta did not waste any time with false pretenses, or by politely ignoring what Adora had just said. It helped that Casta was still grinning cheekily, laughing in a way that made Adora feel part of the joke rather than being the punchline.

"Okay. Well that's, terrifying, cause shame is the only thing that kept me from doing more than study you for weeks now." Adora clapped a hand over her mouth again, muffling a swear. "I didn't mean to say that!"

She was red from the tips of her ears all the way to her chest, her shoulders burning even hotter under Casta's palms. It was true, she had been studying Casta. Ever-vigilant, Adora kept notes on every leader she interacted with, finding comfort in the studious nature of having reports and observations that she could touch. And if she'd been watching Casta extra closely, it was just because she was Glimmer's aunt, connected to the throne by blood.

That was all. Probably. Maybe.

(So technically Casta and Adora were the same rank and from different units, if you _really_ wanted to look at it this way.)

"It's perfectly normal. People usually get sleepy, hungry, or horny when I'm done with them. I think we can tell which way you're leaning, dear."

"I'm sorry," Adora reflexively said anyway. "...What do you normally do? When someone responds like this?"

"I relieve them, if they're amenable to being taken care of. That usually means feeding them or letting them sleep." The way she spoke balanced a fine line between brisk and candid, like a doctor, and comforting like a friend. "How are you feeling, other than that?"

She swallowed around a nervous knot in her throat. "Fine. Good." She wanted to be honest; when she hedged the truth, her neck felt tight and constricted, her mouth drying out. "So much better than before."

Half of her was undone, floating serenely above her. Every so often she saw a flicker of lights in Casta's eyes, mirroring the shards she saw behind closed eyelids. Leftover magic lingered in the air, hesitant like a bird unsure where to land.

Making a fist, Casta's knuckles pressed hard against Adora's sternum. She kept her in place with her other arm around Adora's back, palm flat so that Adora could feel herself being squeezed, impurities pushing their way out like a splinter. This one didn't feel as good as the others, and Adora found herself resisting, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. As much as she tried to sit still, she squirmed, kept only in place by her lingering discipline and Casta's firm hold on her.

"It's okay," Casta said, "It's okay."

A wave of grief rushed through her when Adora surrendered. It felt wet and sticky, emerging from the mire for Casta to take and polish and put away. In its wake was a bittersweet release, not warm and pleasant like the others but deeper, like the sore sting of a cut under medicine and sterile wrapping.

More grounded now, Adora lifted up a palm to her face and brusquely wiped away her sudden tears. "Didn't like that," she managed to grunt.

"Love always hurts." Casta didn't elaborate. Instead she pushed harder, knuckles biting now. "I'm going to put it all back now that we've cleansed them. Okay?"

Adora grit her teeth, bearing it until something slid back into place with the same surety and satisfaction of a teacup in a saucer, or a bolt in a lock. Piece by piece, Casta slotted back what she'd taken away, undoing the laces around Adora's throat and rubbing away the lingering tension between her brows.

"There," Casta said, sitting back and clapping her hands as if to rid them of dust. "All done."

Adora thought with her mental restrictions back, she'd feel heavier. That she'd miss the freedom of only telling the truth. But she flexed her emotions mentally, checking to see if everything was still working the same. There were no constraints at all; in fact she felt refreshed to have them all back after they'd been fluffed and stretched and polished in Casta's hands.

She tested her ability to lie, waiting for her throat to constrict as she puzzled over what to say next. Nothing hurt, so she went with the truth because she'd liked her pure honesty. "So you're not gonna do the shame one?"

One dark brow arched all the way up. "I didn't think you _wanted_ me to do the horny one."

"Not in public." It took considerable effort now to tell the truth, but Adora was accustomed to hard work. "Not if you're going to _relieve_ me."

Casta covered a shocked laugh with the back of her hands, eyes lighting up with amusement. "I see! Well, there's nothing I love more than taking care of the weary, soul-burdened heroes who walk through my doors."

Magic flowed through her again, the sands pushing Adora up to her feet. She stumbled forward into Casta's arms, held in a loose embrace. Taking her hand, the queen lead her away, hopefully to somewhere private.

"One condition," Adora said, strangely soothed by the simple act of Casta linking their fingers together. It felt innocent. She'd never realized she liked that kind of touch.

They stopped outside a solid stone door, taller than both of them stacked together and just as wide. It had to weigh thousands of pounds, but the massive hinges swung open easily under Casta's feather light touch, magic coursing through her fingertips and into the marble. The open doorway revealed carpeted floors, lamps casting a soft teal glow, crystal desks and shelves furnishing the queen's quarters. "Yes?"

Adora lifted their linked hands, resting it over her neck. "I want you to take this off again."

"Gladly."

Another murmured spell sent a frisson of pleasure over her whole body. Casta's thumb brushed over the swell of Adora's throat, and again that lock against dishonesty fell away, leaving nothing but the truth.

"After you," Casta said, bowing slightly and stepping aside so that Adora could enter the room first, with Casta a comforting shadow behind her.

Casta shut the doors behind them with a careless wave.

 

* * *

 

**Catra, One Last Time**

 

Catra awoke with a ragged gasp, heart thundering. She wiped her palms roughly against her face, chest heaving as she struggled to come to her senses. The last thing she remembered was Adora, which wasn't a surprise. She was always thinking about Adora, and their soured, bitter rivalry had not changed that fact. Instead of leaning on her, she pushed her away. Instead of loving her, Catra hated her. But no matter what she did or where they went or how they changed, one thing stayed the same. Catra would always compare herself to Adora, would always weigh herself against her actions. Becoming her enemy hadn't changed that, not one bit.

Despite it all, Adora was still the center of her universe. And the only way to change that would be—

Pain lanced through her skull, the whole world turning bright. Shouting in surprise, Catra gripped her own head and curled into a ball. Instinct made her want to become a smaller target for whatever was hurting her.

_The only way to change it would be if Adora were simply gone._

"I killed her," she said, whole body throbbing now. " _I killed her, I killed her_!"

It took awhile for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but as the shapes around her made more sense, so too did her memories. It had all been so nightmarish, but one thing stood out sharp and clear.

She'd watched Adora fall, and she hadn't done anything to stop it.

_Why does everything hurt so much?_

Catra tried to get to her feet only to stumble and fall. She'd been lying on something, a stone slab. And when her knees stopped shaking, she pulled herself up and looked across the room.

And Adora was there, asleep in a similar position.

Then it all clicked. It _had_ been a nightmare, some kind of invasive spell or illusion of First One technology. Catra's body rebelled as if she had been asleep for a week, and briefly she wondered if she hadn't been.

She dragged herself over to Adora's table, draping herself across the other girl.

"Hey, Adora?"

Shaking her, she coughed a few times to get the rust out of her voice.

"Adora, it's not real. You're in a freaky nightmare. Wake the hell up so we can—"

Again her head screamed in agony. This time Catra bore it with patience, eyes closed.

_So we can what, exactly?_

Catra slumped down next to the table, head in her hands.

_Goodbye, Adora._

She hadn't known it was an illusion when she gloated over Adora, watched her scrabble and scramble and fail, yes, fail! Not perfect, for once in her life. That mental hellscape had been like every one of Shadow Weaver's lessons injected directly into her spinal column, _family is holding you back, love is holding you back, personal attachment is holding you back._

It had reverberated inside her like a heartbeat, so loud that she couldn't ignore it any longer or she would die.

Was Adora still in there, being beaten with the same lesson?

Was she refusing to give in? Because now, looking at her with a clearer head, that's exactly what Catra felt she'd done.

"Wake up," she hissed, not wanting to alert any more security systems. "Get out of there!"

She could tell by the pull of Adora's skin that she was severely dehydrated. They'd been asleep for eons, maybe, Rip Van Winkles to emerge disoriented into the sunlight. The idea sparked another memory, and Catra took another few steps back to look at Adora again.

This time, really look at her.

 _No way._ Even if her eyes told a certain story, she refused to believe it. _It's just a fairy tale. It didn't mean anything._

"Unless," Catra said.

She was running out of options. And time. And common sense.

Adora was lying on her back, so still and pale she seemed dead.

Catra decided she had to at least try. Maybe this was what the book meant, all along, all those years ago. Maybe it really was a set of coded instructions for this heinous princess tech. Maybe there was a ritual to turn off the spell. Maybe there was still a chance to fix this.

Adora would forgive her. Adora always forgave her.

Leaning down, Catra pulled Adora's limp body higher and kissed her, hard. When nothing happened, she waited, perched on the edge of the table with Adora's head on her lap.

"When you wake up you'll see it wasn't real, right?" she said, stroking a hand through her hair, not sure who she was trying to reassure. "If you wake up." Catra kissed her, once, twice, then shook her again. "Why won't you wake up?!"

_How long were we in there?_

Catra had a feeling it didn't matter. Because she didn't know it was fake when she did what she did.

 _When she wakes up,_ Catra realized with dawning horror, _She's going to kill me for real._

There was no room in her mind for any other outcome. Maybe once she'd had the luxury of doubt. Not anymore, after everything Adora had already done to betray her.

More pressingly than that, Catra needed to know how much time had passed. She needed water, she needed to get out of here.

"I figured it out," she said, "You will too."

She let Adora go, setting her back on the stone table and stepping back.

"Or rot here. I don't care."

_I don't care, I don't care, I don't care._

She didn't. It was only the stress of emerging from that nightmare that even fooled her into thinking she did.

Catra clutched her head, the pain in her skull so overwhelming she wondered if she might pass out again.

If she left Adora behind this time, she really would die. No more monsters in her head. No more tests, with that strange alien voice in her skull murmuring constantly _let go, let go, let go of it all, let go._

There was a clatter of stone in the darkness, a shape pacing back and forth. Black claws clicked against the floor, waiting for hours, waiting for forever.

She tried one last time. Kissing her to wake her up, like in the story. It didn't work.

And an exhausted voice, limp with defeat.

"You're on your own."

Then there was only silent, even breathing as the dark figure slipped into the shadows and left.

Catra never looked back.

 


End file.
